night_creature_10//shepherd_puma

As soon as the swamp lion came into sight, the field exploded with antílopes leaping. From afar, they looked like a school of fish jumping in and out of the water. So tall was the meadow, that at first we didn’t see that one of the antílopes, and what seemed to be two of its cubs, had not moved an inch, apparently unaware of the threat that was silently approaching them -which at that point we could only guess from the movement of the pasture. The cubs seemed to be merrily playing with each other while the elder kept its head low to the ground. Something about the impending doom we were witnessing made me crawl even closer to the ledge from where we were watching, while my companion covered his eyes anticipating the massacre that was about to occur. Part of the observer's role is to stay on the sidelines when the natural laws impart their verdict upon the lives of creatures. To know when to break this rule is what separates a good observer from a dangerous one. Despite my desire to shout out a warning, I remained quiet and, must confess, a bit thrilled to witness the infamous swamp lion's bite in action. To my surprise, I would not get to see it that day but would witness something far more rare, as it became evidendent as soon as the swamp lion jumped, its mouth open wide, its hundreds teeth glimmering under the moonlight, and it was encountered by the horns of what had been a Shepherd Puma all along. Rising back to its feet, the swamp lions seized its opponent and, after a moment, turned back into the way it had come. The puma hurried to join the rest of the herd, which were already grazing uphill. Shepard puma’s horns are rounded, not evolved to pierce but to keep at bay. A merciful act, knowing well it could have used its claws instead.